


When You Are Old

by thesaddestboner



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Detroit Red Wings, Friendship, Gen, POV Third Person Omniscient, Recovery From Surgery, Retirement, this is old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you just need a friend. Steve Yzerman makes a decision regarding his future in hockey, and Brendan Shanahan has to pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Are Old

**Author's Note:**

> Throwing up a few ancient things.
> 
> This was written during the summer of 2002, when we all kind of thought Stevie might retire.
> 
> Title from "When You Are Old," by William Butler Yeats.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

"Hey old man, how's the knee?" Brendan set a brown paper bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and shuffled off to the den, where Steve was stretched out, his knee propped up by pillows and covered in ice packs. 

Steve motioned to Brendan to join him on the couch and shifted to one side. "Hey, wasn't expecting you," Steve said with a small smile. "What'd you bring me?" 

"Mostly junk food," Brendan said, handing him a package of potato chips, "and some good stuff." He followed up the bag of chips with a bottled mineral water. 

Steve cringed and raised an eyebrow at his caretaker for the summer, while Lisa and the girls were visiting her parents in Ontario. "You brought me mineral water? I mean, you didn't even get the good stuff, Bren. You could've at least gotten me the Evian," Steve teased him.

Brendan snorted. "Just be glad I got you something. I almost didn't come," Brendan grumbled, good-naturedly. "Cathy had a false labor pain today." 

"It seems a little early for false labor pains, Shanny. You sure everything's okay?" asked Steve, ripping open the bag of chips. 

"Yeah, doctor looked her over and said everything looked good..." Brendan said, putting his arm around Steve's shoulders. 

"Good, good," Steve replied. "Want a chip?" 

"No thanks," said Brendan, holding up the palm of his hand. "Trying to cut down. Let's see what's on TV." Brendan began to idly flip through the stations as Steve nibbled on potato chips. 

After a moment of brief silence, Steve cleared his throat. "Brendan?" 

"Yeah, Steve?" his closest friend on the team, asked, settling on Comedy Central. 

"I need to tell you something," Steve said, quietly, putting aside the chips and the mineral water. 

"Sure, go ahead." 

"I'm not coming back." 

Brendan didn't miss a beat. "That's not funny, Steve. Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me?" he asked, reaching for the grocery bag. 

Steve pushed his hand away. "Brendan, I'm being serious here. I'm not coming back. I'm retiring," he insisted, hoping that Brendan would believe him, that he didn't think this was all his idea of a stupid joke. 

Brendan's face lost its color, and became pale and ashen, and he swallowed, thickly. "What do you mean you're retiring, Steve? You can't, you're the captain. You're the Red Wings."

"I'm just in too much pain," Steve said, grimacing as he struggled to shift himself up on the couch. "It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to walk, sit, lay down. How the hell can I play hockey when I can barely walk down the hall to use the toilet?" 

"You're only thirty-seven, Steve, you've got a lot of years left in you," Brendan said, grabbing for his friend's hand. "We've got to defend our championship." 

Steve sighed, knowing he should have seen Brendan's reaction coming. "I won't come back if I can't help the team. I can't help the team if I'm constantly in pain and getting iced up before games. I don't want to finish my career like that." 

Brendan blinked. "But...you can't, Steve. You don't want to retire, I know you don't." 

" _You_ don't want me to retire. I've come to accept it as an inevitability." Steve sighed, holding Brendan's hand. "It's my time." 

Brendan shook his head. "I still think you're wrong, Steve." 

Steve sighed, giving Brendan's hand a squeeze. "I know I'm doing the right thing." 

Brendan sighed. "It won't be the same without you." 

"You guys will do just fine, Brendan. It's time for the young guys to get a chance. It's time for a changing of the guard." Steve smiled, hoping maybe Brendan might be able to see the good in his decision to retire. "It's time for me to move on and give someone else a chance to be the leader of this team." 

"What do you mean?" asked Brendan, numbly, the shock of Steve's retirement still sinking in. 

"I want you to be captain, Brendan," Steve said, with a smile. "You're a leader on and off the ice, and I know the players look up to you. I also know that you'll do just fine without me." 

"I'll miss you on the ice... I can't picture you behind a bench, or in a press box. It just doesn't seem right," Brendan replied. 

"It's time for a new stage of my life. I owe it to my wife and girls," he said. "I owe it to them to be a father now. One day, you'll understand." Steve sat back against his pillow and felt Brendan reach out for his hand again. "Anyway, I'm getting up there. I don't want to overstay my welcome." 

"Steve, 'old' isn't an age. It's a state of mind, and you are most definitely not an old man." Brendan gave Steve's hand a squeeze.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


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